Hear My Prayer
by Arkenshield
Summary: An untold tale of Pastor Carter's dark past with the Mineral Town. (Warning: Abuse, Rape) - 16-year-old Carter's point of view.


Beads of tears trickled down my cheeks, but I gritted my teeth through the pain that shot through my frail form, threatening to tear me apart, and clenched my fists around the rim of the carpet I was sprawled over. The obscene sound of flesh against flesh from behind me bled into my ears; I wanted to scream, but I knew it was no use.

I bit down hard on my lip as my assaulter picked up his pace. His hot breaths ghosting over the back of my neck were moist and foul, and I trained my eyes on the wooden floor that moved nauseatingly in and out of my peripheral vision at every thrust that ripped through me.

It hurt.

"Aja! Aja! AJA!"

I heard him scream a name that was unknown to my ears and felt him shudder, I knew he was close, and I let an ounce of relief wash over me. I didn't dare to chance a look back though, lest he should blacken my eye again with his baton like last time. The policeman, he didn't like to be watched, well, save for his father and the photographer.

It disgusted me.

I hid my face under my arms and wept silently as I heard him howl his animalistic cry and shot his sticky seeds into my hole. I wiped my tears with my arm, I couldn't let them see my expression, be it pain or revulsion - no, not in Mayor Thomas's house. In this place, there are always consequences.

He slid out of me with a filthy 'plop', and I curled into a pitiful ball of misery and let out a whimper. I have had enough for the day; first it was the Mayor, then Harris had just had his go. Oh God, please let it end here!

"Where do you think you are going, boy!"

The Mayor's bark rang sharply across the room the moment I began crawling towards the old grandfather clock. I froze dead on the spot, not daring to look back as I felt a soft whisper falling from my lips.

"...sir?"

I heard footsteps, and then a different voice sounded above my head, much smoother, silkier, and much more dangerous -!

"My dear child... have you forgotten me?"

I felt my blood turning to ice, and I threw myself back to look up at the one man in the whole of Mineral Town who I feared the most...

Kano.

The psychopath who chained me up and tortured me and took photos of his great handiwork after I was all bloodied, spent, and unconscious. And after his respectable work was done, he would take those shameful photos to the inn and showed them to lesser men who would gather around him like he was a saint, begging to have their go with me.

My eyes widened in trepidation as I felt my heart beating so fast like it was going to tear its way out of my chest. There he was, there he stood, that maniac glint in his dark eyes, the madness even his respectable white shirt and the sophisticated bow-tie could not hide.

Of course him and this village went way back. He claimed to have had taken photos around here for years, who knew how many other teen boys have suffered the same fate at the hand of the psychopath the same way I did?

I was snapped out of my reverie, as the man's well-manicured fingers made a grab of my arm. In a moment of sheer stupidity and frantic fear, I let out a sharp cry and shook off his hand, before gathering myself up and making for the door!

The falling snow shocked my lungs as it did my bare skin, but I slammed the door shut behind me and kept running. It was Mid-winter, and I was without any clothes, but I didn't care. I sprinted as fast as my lithe form would permit towards... where? The supermarket? The clinic? No... It was the middle of the night, they would have all been closed by now, and nobody would have heard me. The inn? No. For all I know, I could meet the likes of Kano there.

I turned and sped towards the direction of the library. I didn't know if Kano had come after me, but I prayed to my Lord and Savior above that he had had enough to drink and would decide against coming outside on a Mid-winter's night. It was when I made it round to the Poultry Farm that I finally let down my pace. I panted heavily, my breath came out in streaks of white mists, and it was only now that I had begun to feel cold, very cold. The sweat that clung to my body and hair began to freeze into ice, and I hugged myself as I limped over a wooden bridge that stood over a small stream which ran behind the farms.

The stars were shining bright amidst the falling snow as I made my way into the forest. It was even colder here but I knew I couldn't turn back. I felt a bit of snow fall into my hazy eyes as I continued to limp and stagger around a wooden hut. I didn't know where to go, I had never been around this area of Mineral Town before.

In fact, I had barely been anywhere but the mayor's house. I still remembered getting introduced around the village upon my arrival four years ago. I was only twelve, then, washed ashore by the waves, far away from the distant memories of my home... Zack was the one who found me, unconscious on the sand, and brought me to the Mayor.

I wanted to laugh.

How foolish I was, to have thought that I would find a new life here! At first, the Mayor acted as a kind and thoughtful guardian towards me, and I let my guard down, what a mistake. Because before I knew it, all three men in the house were ramming their cocks into me, and as did the Mayor's guests and friends from distant towns who stopped by from time to time.

I looked down at my pale skin, I never saw the light of day again after that. Luckily I still remembered the layout of the village, else I would not have made it this far.

I looked up and saw steams rising from atop a small hill which stood before me. Shivering cold and distressed, I began to ascend the earthy stairs that lead up the hill. Perhaps there was a house up there, perhaps I could seek shelter with them for a night, and hopefully... hopefully they won't turn out to be the same kinds which I had run from.

To my surprise, the steams were rising from what appeared to be a large hot-spring. I slowly padded towards it, as if in a trance, this was too good to be true. Why? A resting place for weary travellers? I leaned over the clear water surface and watched the bubbles rising towards the top. It was nice and warm, and I was getting frostbites. I wasted no time in climbing into the lush pool of steaming water.

I leant back against the stone wall and looked beyond the stars. The grimes and the blood and the semen were being washed away, and I let the warm, silky water caress my abused body. I sunk even lower into the pool and cupped some water in my hands, I stared into it.

I did not look like a sixteen year-old boy that I was. I was frail, much more frail and thin than last I looked into a mirror, which was years ago. The Mayor didn't keep mirrors in his house. My ocean blue eyes looked too big for my face, and the blemishes on my pale skin were even more pronounced in the bright moonlight.

I let my hands dropped. The sound of the cascading waterfall and the night's cicadas faded into the distance as I began to drift off. My breaths were even, and I fell into a dreamless slumber for the first time in many many years...

"...boy..."

"...Boy."

"BOY!"

I jerked from my slumber in alarm and quickly felt my surroundings. Where was I? What was this soft fabric? I was definitely on the Mayor's bed, was I not?... Oh wait...-

Suddenly, a train of memories cam crashing down, dizzying me. I was no longer at the Mayor's house. I had run away...- I was in the hot-spring, so does this mean...?

I let my eyes fly open, feeling surprisingly rejuvenated as my long lashes lifted. I was lying in a bed in a low-ceilinged room. I felt around on the bed and found that a sheep-skin blanket had been draped over me. Had I really made it? Had somebody picked me up and cared for me?

Joy filled my chest as I tried to bite in my cry of delight. I wanted to shout, to laugh. I clutched the woolen blanket hard and tried not to let my tears fall. I did it! I had made it away from the Mayor and his men!

"Why are you crying?" A soft baritone sounded to my right, making me turn. There, on a rocking chair beside the bed, sat the owner of the voice which roused me from my slumber. The man was well dressed, equipped with long, black trousers and a violet waistcoat. Traces of grey were beginning to show in his raven, black hair, but it did nothing to lessen his regal looks. He had strong jaws, a refined face.

He was handsome.

"T...Thank you." I felt a hoarse whisper escaping from my throat as I met his eyes, and the gentleman quickly got up to fetch me a glass of water from the cabinet on the other side of the room.

I drank like a man dying of thirst. The running and my night in the hot-spring had dehydrated me. Finally I set down my glass of water with a sigh, and I heard the handsome stranger beside me chuckle.

"You know what, child, you look oddly familiar but I don't think I've seen you before," he said, smiling warmly at me, before introducing himself. "The name's Duke. You are at my winery, and you are welcome to stay as long as you like."

He did not ask for my name, and I did not volunteer it. Which I should have thought was strange, but then I was too weary that I didn't.

A week flew by in the blink of an eye. I spent my whole time recovering at the winery under the care of Duke and his beautiful wife, Manna. I never went outside, not even when Duke had offered to show me the cellar and his vineyard. I knew I wasn't far away from the Mayor's house, still, and I did not want to risk it. Duke and Manna did not ask questions when I pleaded with them not to let the villagers know I was in their care. I wanted Kano to think I had fallen dead in the ice somewhere. Erase me out of existence, I could not wish for more.

One late afternoon came while Manna had gone outside to the square, I was sitting at the dining table downstairs when Duke approached me. He seemed a little distressed.

"What's wrong?" I asked, closing a book that Manna had lent me and looking up at him. He smiled down and carded his hand through my blond locks as if I was a little one.

"Nothing you should worry about, child," he said.

Coming to think about it. I don't think Duke ever asked for my name.

I would not relent.

"Duke," my tone was serious, "I will never be able to thank you and Manna enough for your kindness. I know I haven't anything of value to offer you, but if you ever need somebody to help - to listen to you, I will be more than glad to offer my service."

There was a moment of silence, then finally my host broke the ice.

"'Service', did you say?" Duke mumbled quietly as his eyes stared into the distance, and it was only then that I noticed a nearly empty bottle of wine balancing precariously between his fingers. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck standing up as flashbacks came crashing down into my mind again, but I quickly shook the thought off with a shudder. Duke was not their kind, him and Manna were kind to me. They were good people.

A sigh from the handsome man pulled me out of my reverie, and Duke was talking.

"-...was years ago now. Our daughter, she left the village. She hated it here."

I was stunned. True, I absolutely detested the past four years, but it had nothing to do with the village, it was the people who were in charge of me that made my life a living hell. I could not imagine a girl with such loving parents to hate such a beautiful place like the Mineral Town. It just didn't seem right.

"-she was coveted by a man of honour. A respectable man," Duke was looking straight into my eyes now, "He asked for her hand, but her heart never belonged to him, and so she fled."

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling that my words were empty and weightless.

"Don't be," Duke whispered, his roaming my face and stopping at my lips. When did he get so close to me?

"...and Manna was never the same again." Duke said, " We don't even sleep in the same bed, we don't do things husbands and wives do anymore..."

I felt myself blushing - like a virgin, who would have known that under this guise was a real whore?

"I have been lonely... So lonely..."

Duke whispered my name, and my eyes widened in shock, but it was too late. Because the second my instinct had screamed at me, to run, that something was off - Duke had already launched himself at me and tackled me to the floor!

I opened my mouth to scream, but a big and wandering hand quickly found its way to cover my mouth, and I managed to let out only a muffled cry.

"I'd be quiet if I were you..." his silky smooth voice whispered into my ear as he chuckled, "wouldn't want Kano knowing you're here, would we... hm?"

My eyes widened at the name that haunted my dreams and my every waking moment. How did he know! Does this mean... does this mean...-

"Oh, sweetheart..." Duke tsked, he was grinning dangerously at me now, "Did it NEVER crossed your little mind why I would have kept you in my house if you weren't going to become of any use?"

I felt tears leaking from the sides of my eyes as I was pinned down to the floor. I prayed, I prayed every night for God to grant me an end to it all, but the Lord never lent an ear to my prayers, and my cries of woes went to silence and no avail. I did not have the will to struggle anymore, I only knew this would be like other times, and the times before that. I would just have to grit my teeth through it all, and suffer it all again. All because God was dead.

"Those photographs were lovely, my dear..." he whispered against the side of my neck as he began stripping me, and he yanked my face back as I turned away in disgust, "I was so tempted to break into that sod Thomas's house and claim you for myself. Mmmm... After all these years, I never actually thought I'd get to feel your lovely skin under my hands..."

It seemed like hours that I lay still, my legs spread and my eyes bleeding empty, letting the man I trusted, the beast in disguise take what he wanted. There was no point crying. No. Not anymore. I let my eyes closed and let myself drift away...

I was roused to consciousness again with three light taps on the door. I did not know how much time had passed, but my parched throat and my aching muscles told me it had been hours that I was left lying on the cold, hard floor.

I felt around my dark surrounding, it must be night-time now, because the lights in the house were switched off. The dust and the cobwebs that clogged my nostrils told me that I was lying under the stairs that lead up to the second floor. Manna must have returned while Duke was still having his way with my unconscious body - I deduced - and he must have shoved me in here then.

I heard footsteps coming down the stairs and curled tight into a little ball as I peeked out from my hideout. From my spot, I could see Dukes in his pajamas tutting and walking towards the door with a lamp in his hand. He pulled the door opened roughly and put on a sour expression for the late-night visitor.

Then Duke's face changed.

"Anthony," the man nodded sternly, "To what do I owe this late-night pleasure?"

"Oh, nothing of great importance." A cheery voice sounded from the threshold, and in stepped an old man of about seventy-five years of age. I shuffled back silently as moonlight spilled into the house, I had no intention of getting discovered by yet another stranger.

"Then what is it?" Duke snapped, looking as if he was about to lose his temper as he chanced a glance towards my direction. I kept still as a mouse.

The old man looked at Duke straight in the eye for a few seconds, then slowly spoke.

"I'm here to get the cook book I lent Manna some weeks ago. The Star Night Festival is tomorrow, I need to start preparing now."

I was surprised at how authoritative a couple of simple sentences could sound when it came from the old man, apparently Duke seemed to have thought so as well, and nodded his assent gruffly.

"Wait here, she left it up in the bedroom."

The he turned on his heels and stomped upstairs. I saw the old man's - Anthony's - eyes trailing after Duke's retreating back, and the moment I heard the sound of a door upstairs being yanked opened, the old man bolted towards me faster than I would have ever imagine he would be able to!

"Quick, boy!" his voice was gruff as he extended his hand towards me who only scurried deeper under the stairs in fear. Anthony rolled his eyes and barked quietly.

"If you still value your life, son, you will get out of there now!" There was a glint in his eyes, one which was neither sane nor entirely assuring, but it was different. Yes, it was different from both Kano's and Duke's maniacal ones, and I nodded slowly.

He helped me out from under the stairs and draped his shawl over me.

"Get out of the house," the old man whispered, "Turn right and take the pathway up the hill, pass the smithy. You'll see a farm, get there and hide in the house until I return. Whatever you do, be silent and do not stop to look back, is that clear?"

I wanted to nod, but the sound of the door creaking open from upstairs made me freeze on the spot.

"Go!" the old farmer whispered harshly and pushed me out of the door. The wooden thing fell shut behind me, and without thinking, without feeling, and without hope of any nature, I sprinted up the path that he had walked, towards a new horizon.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Weeks passed while I was in the old farmer's care, and Spring had rolled around by the time I managed to get myself out of bed. I leant on my cane, and with Anthony's help, I was finally able to step outside the house for the first time.

I stared agape at the expanse of prosperous farmland that stretched endlessly before my eyes. The air was rich with the fragrance of the sweetest honeysuckle, and the little birds took off from near my feet towards the golden sun whose warm light gently caressed my skin. A beautiful melody filled my ears. It was the music of nature, of a new beginning, of hope.

"I never knew Spring could be this beautiful..." I muttered, and the old farmer laughed heartily.

"You remind me of my grandson, he's about your age. He loves the Spring here as well, but school only ever closes during Summer. It's been years since I last saw him."

I smiled, sadly. I never went to school.

"Well son," Anthony turned towards me, there was a twinkle in his old eyes, "Ready to help me plant some strawberries?"

And that was the day I smiled. I smiled and followed Anthony around the farm, helping in all the ways I could with his chores. Watering the crops, harvesting turnips, feeding the chickens and milking the cows. The sweetness of springtime, to me, was better than any medicinal cure, because when I finally tucked in that night, I could still feel the ghost of a laugh tugging at the corner of my lips.

It was true that I still needed medicine. The night I ran from the hell hole that was Duke's place, Anthony found me collapsed in front of the door to his house. He had lugged me in and went to fetch doctor Timothy the very next morning.

At first, I thrashed and kicked and screamed, I would not let another man get close to me, because what did that ever bring me but pain and misery? Eventually, however, I caved in due to fatigue, and relented, and I found out from overhearing hushed conversations between the doctor and the old farmer that they always suspected something was going on behind closed doors when it concerned the owner of the winery.

I was diagnosed with severe internal bleeding, and three broken ribs, when Duke had kicked me under the stairs. The doctor also regretfully said that I will never be able to produce a child to call my own; I only shrugged. The issue was what mattered least to me now.

'I will never be romantically involved with anybody.' I told him this, 'You probably know what incurable diseases I caught from all those encounters, doctor. Only, you fear to voice it.'

Doctor Timothy only bowed and remained silent in respect of my decision.

Seasons came and changed, and soon, I could finally walk on my own and we were harvesting eggplants and sweet potatoes. I refused to ever go into town again, but Anthony took me into the mountains once in a while for a change of atmosphere, and it was Autumn that year that I found my passion for truffles.

'If I ever own a farm of my own,' I had told the old farmer through a mouthful of his special recipe of truffle rice, "I'll do nothing but grow truffles."

Sometimes the doctor joined us for our walked into the woods. He was interested in poisonous plants, and was more than willing to share his vast knowledge of medicines and things that grow with me.

For a while, I felt as if my life was complete.

Then suddenly, and out of nowhere, an illness seized my kindhearted host, and he began taking prescriptions from the doctor. He would not tell me what it was, but I could read a little, and I figured out from the patient's chart the doctor carried that it was brain tumor. I didn't know what a tumor was, but anything to do with one's state of mind sounded frightening to me. Then one Winter morning, Anthony tripped and fell, knocking himself out cold on a worktop inside the house.

I heaved him to his bed and laid him down. When he came to, his bushy brows furrowed, and he looked at me straight in the eye.

"They are renovating the old church at the far end of the town," he said in a serious voice, and I was taken aback. Had the disease finally taken its perilous toll on him?

"I'm a big sponsor," Anthony shrugged as he continued to speak, and I was throwing lumbers into the fire, coaxing the flames to dance a little higher, "It should be finished and nice as new by the end of Winter. I could only hope I would live to see it then."

I was silent, and Anthony did not speak to me about it again.

As winter drew on, his condition worsened. The doctor visited often and brought words that the renovation of the church was completed. I took care of the farm chores for Anthony, but he began to sell off his beloved animals, reasoning that nobody would be there to care for them when he finally passed.

What about me? I could take care of them for him. Had I not done a fair job throughout the year? - But I kept my words to myself and tended to the old man, as his brilliant mind deteriorated into unrestful trains of thoughts. He would sometimes cry out at night, speaking of memories long lost, and of the farm, his grandson, and of his life before I came to know him.

It was not the first time I wished I knew what to do.

Then on the final week, he was throwing one such fit. Doctor Timothy was there as well when Anthony suddenly grabbed my collars and yanked me down so he could look fully at my face. His once calm eyes were darting in a frenzy, and he sputtered out hoarsely.

"The church...- The church...! They need someone to take care of it. The people of this town need it."

"Hush, Tony... sleep," I tried, but he grabbed my arm and I saw that he was desperately trying to get this words across to me, but his mind would not cooperate.

"Go, son... Go... The people of this town, they need it. You..."

Finally, it dawned on me what he had been trying to tell me all along since he broke the news about the church! It all made sense why he became a big sponsor of something he was not interested in. He knew his time was limited, and he wanted to me have to place to be, a home to live in, and to be respected.

I knew that during my time I spent with him, I had grown stronger, older, and wiser. I knew I could take care of my own, but for me to run a church...?

"I can't do it, Anthony," I said, not meeting his eyes, "I'm sorry."

"Any why not?" Doctor Timothy's voice sounded behind me, "I thought you said you were a man of faith. No one would better suit this position than you."

I turned to face him.

"Because God is dead." I said, quietly.

"All the more reasons for the people of this town to have somebody they could put their faith in."

Anthony passed away a few days after I reluctantly agreed to take care of the church. And I took full advantage of my new found authority to order his body to be buried in the same cemetery as the past mayors of Mineral Town. Years from now, the people walking through this cemetery would stop to ponder why the newest tombstone situated in the middle read 'here rests the 13th mayor', while there were fourteen tombstones in the yard. Of course, they didn't need to know that one was a greater man than any mayor of the Mineral Town ever were.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I looked up from my book when I heard a knock on the door. The memories of the recent past seemed to have gotten better of me again.

"Come in." I called, and the church doors swung open.

For a moment, I thought my eyes were playing tricks, for the young man my age standing across the hall was the exact image of my dear friend, Anthony! The same shade of hair, the same pair of warm, brown eyes, even the old shabby hat was worn the same way!

I quickly composed myself and offered him a greeting with a smile. The young man looked nervous as he began to speak.

"I- uhm... I'm new to this village."

Oh? - That reminded me a little of myself.

"You most certainly are welcome here," I said.

The young man quickly suppleid.

"Mayor Thomas didn't bring me here last week when he took me around the village...-"

- I tried not to scoff. Of course he did not.

"-So I was wondering if you would happen to know somebody I'm looking for." He shuffled uneasily on his feet. "My grandfather, Anthony, scribbled his name on a page of his will, and I heard he was an old friend of his...-"

As if a golden ray of sunlight had washed over me. I wanted to laugh. The sweet scent of Spring time filled my lungs again, as the happy memories flittered across my mind.

"And you are Mister...?"

"Jack," he quickly replied, "My name is Jack."

"Well, Jack..." I smiled, "My name is Carter, and I am the pastor of Mineral town. It is a pleasure finally getting to meet you..."


End file.
